


Magician

by notcrindy



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Crindy tackles trauma recovery again, M/M, eventually. so now i have, i missed out on taakitz week but i still wanted to try, ptsd taako, which again is the only kind of Taako
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 16:21:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrindy/pseuds/notcrindy
Summary: “A magician never reveals his secrets, Krav.”It’s meant as a casual statement, a goof. Kravitz still can’t help himself. “That’s… ...kind of what I want to talk about.”Kravitz knows a lot of things about Taako.(He wonders if he should.)





	Magician

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt "firsts -- kitchen disasters," months late. enjoy!

Kravitz hasn’t ever been on a date like this before.

Some of that is the fault of being _so old,_ to be certain. Dates back when he was alive looked different from dates now, and his first get together in centuries at the Chug  & Squeeze is a testament. Never would he have _dreamed,_ back when he was alive, of doing something so goofy with someone so blunt and irreverent; it’s strange to him, working the clay awkwardly in his hands and trying to drink the feeling away of being out of place. He only ever took dates back then, anyway, to be polite or satisfy passing fancies. That one had been… ...really different.

And the next one, too. And the one after that, even. And they kept all being different, so different from anything Kravitz might ever imagine with anyone interested in him. But this one? Definitely different. Sharing a _bed_ with someone else? Very different. Witnessing the beauty of the elf with his golden hair all splayed out, looking calmer and more innocent than Kravitz has ever _seen_ him before--super _duper_ different, but not unwelcome. He doesn’t technically… ... _need_ sleep. He can’t remember what it was like to ever need any form of rest, to be honest. Too long ago.

“Elves don’t sleep,” Taako had insisted right before drifting off, “they _meditate._ Tsk, tsk, Kravvy.”

No one’s ever called him _Kravvy._ Or _Krav._ Or _Skeletor, Bone Man, Bone Daddy,_ or any of the other variants. It’s always been the full name before, because that’s always been proper. Taako uses his full and proper name sometimes, but it’s infrequent enough that Kravitz _might_ be able to count the instances of it on both hands. He’s always bandying about new nicknames, and each new one is amusing and new enough that the Reaper could laugh. Sometimes, he does.

Anyway. The point is, Kravitz hasn’t been a mortal in a _really_ long time, so it’s definitely possible that he’s forgotten what sleep is supposed to look like compared to meditation in mortals, but he’s _pretty_ sure that what Taako is doing right now as he snuggles against him is sleeping. It’s peaceful and pretty and he doesn’t get many breaks to just _think_ so it’s nice, though he’s mildly embarrassed with himself when he realizes he’s started stroking Taako’s hair a little. It’s soft, though. He sets his internal rhythm to the heartbeat of the elf beside him, the thing that _shouldn’t be happening_ because Taako has died _so many times_ , and the breathing puts him at ease.

No work talk or work worries. Just… ...nice.

He becomes so accustomed to it that when there’s a disturbance in it at all, it startles him. Taako murmurs something so soft and slurred that Kravitz can’t quite understand, then sits up. He… ...looks awake, but the eyes are glassy enough that his partner knows that might be deceptive, and he’s about to try to coax the elf back into bed when he moves. Moves far too gracefully for someone who’s supposed to be asleep, but moves nonetheless. Kravitz hasn’t really seen this in someone before, but he follows Taako out the door, anxious.

“Taako, love,” he tries, “what are you doing? Why don’t you come back to bed, hm?”

The elf doesn’t even seem to hear him, ears not even twitching in response to Kravitz’s words like usual as he makes his way into the kitchen. Continues mumbling things so quiet that they’re impossible to understand, goes over to the fridge and starts grabbing seemingly random ingredients, and well--well, this seems. Unsafe. And not great. So now Kravitz is trying to softly move for him, dip towards him and catch him in his arms and lead him back to bed, but Taako almost _dances_ out of reach as though performing, waving his hands.

“I know, I know,” he addresses no one in particular, “this is such dope _shit,_ am I right, folks? An’ y’all know how much I _love_ you here. One of my fav places. ‘nyway, so now what we’re gonna do is we’re gonna start… ...start choppin’ the garlic…”

There’s no garlic in Taako’s living space. He hates even the smell of it. Kravitz doesn’t know why; he just knows this fact, something that came up during one of their get-togethers somehow. Just too _strong,_ Taako had said. Overused and overrated, Taako had said, scrunching his face up into an expression of disgust that had made the Reaper smile in a way he hadn’t ever before. So it’s silly, almost sweet, almost adorable when he holds up an onion instead, looking dazed and far away.

It’s _less_ sweet once his sleepy hands start fumbling for the knives, nearly locating them before Kravitz _dives_ in his way. “Oh, no you don’t,” he whispers, still trying to be soft and delicate with this situation. He’s not really sure what else to do, but--but no, outlaw and breaker of the rules of the afterlife or not, this is _not_ a way that Taako deserves to injure himself or worse. “Not on my watch.”

A smile plays on Taako’s lips then, something seemingly in direct response to Kravitz, and for a moment it seems like it’s all over and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. But after a moment, he gestures to his companion like he’s showing him off, which is a pretty good indication that there’s still no lucidity to be had. “My lov’ly assist’nt,” he drawls in a voice that he doesn’t usually use, “will help me prepare this dish, o’ course. Innit that right?”

Taako grins right at him, something so dazzling that even in this situation Kravitz has to steel himself against it, and he… ...he just doesn’t know what to do. He tries, a few more times, to wake him up or get him back into his room to sleep, but to no avail. So after a heavy sigh, and a bit of awkwardness on his part and wringing his hands, he figures he has no choice but to play along. “That’s _right,_ Taako. Of course I’ll help.”

This makes Taako _light up_ with joy, and it’s so wonderful. If this were _any_ other circumstance. “I had a _feelin’_ you’d say so. Give ‘im a _hand,_ folks. ‘sn’t he the _best?_ Now the thing about this recipe is it’s _gotta_ be thirty cloves. Huh, darlin’.”

This is so weird. “You know best, Taako.”

“I always _do,_ don’t I?” Modesty befitting of his date usually, and at least it’s _endearing._ Again, if Kravitz weren’t at least vaguely concerned right now, he might find this cute. “Tha’s _right_ I do. ‘nyways, so um… ...so um, thirty cloves. Did I alrea’y say thirty cloves?” He sways a little, nearly a little too far to the left, and Kravitz is right there to support him. He hopes, fruitlessly, that _this_ will be the moment he can get Taako to settle down, but instead, he ducks out of Kravitz’s arms like he’s been doing it regularly and keeps rambling. “Tha’s right, but then we need… ...we need… ...an elderberry… ...garnish.”

The entire look on Taako’s face changes then. His eyes are still glassed over, but they’ve started widening as if staring out at some horror. He starts trembling in a way that he never has before, looking more afraid than Kravitz has ever seen him, and it’s unsettling to watch. Especially considering that, when confronted with the face of literally actually certain death, the most the man has _ever_ done has been taunt him or spit in (or croon over) his face. It’s… ...wrong, seeing Taako this way. It’s not supposed to be like this.

And then he _screams._ “Don’t _eat_ it,” he yelps suddenly like a frightened child, and his knees buckle out from under him but Kravitz is quick to catch him. “No, no, no, _no,_ ‘s bad, _don’t eat it_ ‘s bad, don’t _eat_ it, please _stop_ , don’t _eat it_ please stop don’t--”

“Taako. _Taako._ ” Okay, they’re… ...on Taako’s kitchen floor now. He’s trying to shake him awake just a little, and his eyes are starting to fill with tears which is another thing that Kravitz hasn’t seen, shouldn’t be seeing because it’s not with the elf’s consent. It’s too _vulnerable,_ it’s too personal, he shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be happening. But when trying to shake him awake doesn’t work, the soothing has to. The petting his hair so soft and… ...and trying to hold him close. “You’re okay, love. Everything’s okay. This is just a bad dream.”

“Please, don’t leave,” Taako begs of him, tearful and tired. “I know I’ve been bad, but please don’... ...leave me…”

“I’m not going to leave you, Taako. I promise.”

“I’m _sorry,_ I’m _sorry,_ ” he keeps repeating into Kravitz’s shoulder, sobbing and shaking.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s all right, Taako.”

“‘s the elderberry,” he murmurs weakly. “Don’t _eat_ it.”

“Darling, this is just a bad dream,” he manages. “An awful, horrible dream you’re having. You’re just confused. It’s okay.”

“Forty people,” Taako murmurs.

Kravitz has… ...no idea what that means. “I know, I know. It’s all right now. Shh…”

When it finally dies down, Taako seems to wake just a little. He doesn’t really understand where he is or why he’s there, or even particularly _care_ why Kravitz is there; he’s even more confused now if that’s even possible. Fortunately, it’s easy this time to lead the elf back to his bed, and as soon as he settles down in it and against Kravitz again, sleep comes relatively easily.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he tells Kravitz, yawning and snuggling into him some more. “I’ll talk about it in th’ mornin’.”

He never does; Kravitz doesn’t press it.

It isn’t until later on the day of the Story and Song, when he’s finally reunited with Taako after ages in that horrible suffocating black opal, that he understands. After the feelings of the reunion itself have subsided and he’s had time to even process everything that’s happened, he can’t help but be struck by that similar feeling he had that night. Of knowing something that Taako wouldn’t and hasn’t willingly confided in him. Of seeing and knowing something that he shouldn’t know and see.

He finally brings it up one morning, when most of the chaos has dulled. Taako’s making breakfast, and Kravitz doesn’t technically _need_ food, but it smells enticing enough that he’s sitting at the kitchen table. They haven’t moved in together yet, formed any semblance of a home, but he’s already over more frequently and there have been talks (particularly since Taako’s sister works in such close quarters with him now and she’s always teasing. They’re, um, _very_ related). It’s such a quiet time, something welcome after everything, and Kravitz feels guilty to ruin it like this, but.

No time like the present, right?

“Dunno what kinda idiot can’t even make his own _pancakes,_ ” Taako teases, “but here you go. Chocolate chip pancakes with a homemade strawberry syrup. Pretty classic, Bone Man.”

“Looks good.” He takes a deep breath. “Taako, I… ...have a question.”

Well, that was the worst and most awkward way to bring it up. Which is only validated by the way Taako waves him off with an elegantly manicured hand, not even turning to look at him as he goes back over to fetch his own serving of pancakes. “A magician never reveals his secrets, Krav.”

It’s meant as a casual statement, a goof. Kravitz still can’t help himself. “That’s… ...kind of what I want to talk about.”

There must be something in the tone of his voice, because Taako freezes before he smooths himself over. It’s something that the Reaper wouldn’t have even caught months ago, something subtle enough that he may be one of the only people to ever notice, but it’s glaring in this context. “Less talking, more eating,” he demands, face nonchalant now as he brings his plate over. The Glamour is up, though. That’s… ...hard to miss. “I worked _hard_ on this shit.”

“We can talk _and_ eat,” Kravitz tries carefully. He ignores just how stiff and white and unnatural the smile playing on his lover’s lips is right now, because it hurts in some strange way. What happened to Taako in Wonderland couldn’t be fixed by just one reunion, one reassurance; he knows that now, but it still stings a little.

“Can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, Kravitz.”

He’s just going to keep deflecting, and Kravitz can’t _stand_ it. “How do you _feel?_ ” He blurts out inelegantly. Taako raises an eyebrow, ready to spin this into some kind of joke or twist his own tongue around trying to come up with some nonsense, but not today. “About--about me _knowing_ everything?”

He watches Taako’s eyes become green and sharp. Hollow. “We already talked about that,” he trills cheerfully. “We don’t need to anymore. More syrup?”

Kravitz ignores this. “So not great, then. That… ...that’s fine. I just wanted to know.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Taako snaps back like a rubber band, and now the irritation is obvious in his voice. “We already _talked_ about this. I _know_ you know everything and I know you think that everyone’s right to think I’m the bomb because _they_ know everything. It’s _fine._ ”

“Is it?” Why is Kravitz pressing? He hates himself for it. “Taako, this isn’t--this isn’t _normal._ ”

“What, having your whole life’s story broadcast via _jellyfish?_ Yeah, no fucking shit, Kravitz.”

He knows he shouldn’t, but Kravitz feels so… ...so godsdamn _frustrated._ “That’s not what I mean,” he groans, massaging his temples.

There’s a moment of silence. Taako recoils after it, which means that Kravitz has royally fucked up, so that’s great. “No,” he murmurs quietly, “no, I get it. I--I get it. You wish you didn’t know so much about me.”

“What? Taako--”

“Nope,” he babbles, and Kravitz _knows_ he’s hurt him now as he tries to get up from the table and stumbles. “It’s super crystal clear, don’t even trip about it. If--if I were any other guy, you wouldn’t have to know all the awful shit about me at once. You wouldn’t have to deal with it, but now you are, and you feel _stuck_ with me.”

“Taako,” Kravitz tries, his voice gentler now as he tries to reach out and grab Taako’s hand before he leaves. “Love, no, I--”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Kravitz,” he murmurs, not looking at him. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Oh, ow. “Love, please stop. That’s not at _all_ what--you don’t--”

He reaches deep inside himself and finds all the love, all the admiration, all the strength he knows he can possess _because_ of Taako and all of his growth and learning since meeting him and finds the words, writhing around somewhere and genuine. They’re begging to be spoken now. “If we were normal, you’d _want_ to tell me things,” he finally spits out, voice far more emotional than he expected even of himself.

Taako stops and turns. “...What?”

“That’s the problem I have with it,” he confesses. “Because--because I shouldn’t know those things about you, but that doesn’t mean I--Taako, that doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ to.” He hates to abandon the pancakes, but Kravitz gets up and moves toward Taako anyway, looking him in the eyes and reaching for his hands. “I… ...I’m _honored._ I’m honored every single day to have even garnered your attention. Information about you, where you came from, why you are the way you are? That’s… ...that’s dear to me, Taako. That’s important and _special_ and--and--and I’m glad I have it. But I didn’t earn it. I didn’t earn your trust. And that doesn’t sit right with me.”

After a moment, he realizes he’s been rambling and feels self-conscious. “I… I was just wondering how you felt about it, that’s all.”

“Kravitz,” Taako gasps, almost tearing up. “That’s so gay.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes.

“No, no, no,” it’s Taako’s turn to protest, grabbing his face gently. “Listen. That… ...means so much to me, Krav. _Everyone_ thinks they’re entitled to a piece of this, and--and yeah, that’s part of being a public figure, whatever. I’m rolling in dough and street cred, right? What more could I want? Ain’t nowhere to go but up. But… ...but I guess I try not to think about it, everybody knowing my tragic backstory.”

He pauses, removing his hands from Kravitz’s face to ramble to himself in the way that he does. “I mean, I had to have one, naturally. No reason to root for the hero if he didn’t have to overcome a fuckload to get to where he is, am I right? Wouldn’t really be a compelling narrative without--”

And Kravitz kisses him then, kisses him with all the love in the world. “You don’t _need_ to suffer, Taako. But either way, their opinion doesn’t--doesn’t exactly matter, does it? I think you’re plenty interesting.”

“That’s just it,” Taako mumbles, looking lovestruck. “You did even before this.”

“Well, yes. You’re the most interesting person I’ve--”

“I’m not cool with it, though,” he finally confesses. “Not with most people.”

He’s snuggling up against Kravitz again, and once again it’s easy to hear those signs of life from him, vibrant and thrumming with his Song and his energy at every possible moment. “But I can handle it with you.”

“Promise?” Kravitz murmurs into his hair.

“Pinky swear, my dude,” Taako reassures him, smile wide and real this time. “You’ve earned it.”

That’s all Kravitz needs to know.

“Now let’s eat some goddamn pancakes.”  


**Author's Note:**

> WELL this is sure a thing i did. i didn't feel up to Taakitz week at the time that it happened, and i'm always bitter, so here's something for the first prompt because... idk. because. hopefully it's literally any good. thanks for reading and caring. <3


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